


Learning Curve

by theprincessed



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Harry, First Time, Fluff, M/M, The X Factor Era, Top Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-09
Updated: 2013-10-09
Packaged: 2017-12-28 22:10:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/997514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprincessed/pseuds/theprincessed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry's first time with Louis whilst they're still in the X Factor house. (Inspired by and set following the <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6bajxfCKjqQ">infamous chocolate coins video</a>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning Curve

**Author's Note:**

> Another oldie fic with a special place in my heart. I won't re-write any of these because I kinda like the 'real time' quality to them all. I was watching XF in 2010 and gaining new insight to their characters everyday, even if my writing is (I really hope!) so much better now.
> 
> Originally posted 12 December 2010.

Soon after they think they have all the footage they need, the camera crew leave and Mary gets called to rehearse on stage. In a small room full of their stuff, Harry and Louis are truly left alone. Harry’s still stretched out on the tiny sofa like he has all the space in the world, counting Louis’ lap as a place to plant his feet. Louis gives him a pointed look.

“What?” Harry grins, flicking another empty foil wrapper at Louis’ face.

It drops before it gets there, so Louis digs around for it and throws it back at him, “Get your stinky feet off me.”

“I’ve got socks on!” he protests, frowning at Louis’ bare feet.

“You’re still a stinky sixteen year old,” Louis shoots back before poking his tongue out, “Feet. Off.”

But Harry’s face changes, his mouth pinched in determination, “ _Make me_.”

He uses his toes to press just so, inching over Louis’ thigh and into a far more dangerous position. Louis breathes out shakily at the contact, trying to sit up away from him. Harry easily moves his other leg around Louis’ back and squeezes. He rubs the heel of his foot over Louis’ crotch and sees his nostrils flare.

He’s still got his arms at his disposal and Harry giggles as Louis reaches out and tickles his side. Harry’s leg lifts, but instead of standing up and smugly declaring victory, Louis leans towards him. Harry goes on the defensive as token resistance, their hands clashing as they meet. He arches up, trying to remember if that door has a lock or not, whilst Louis continues to pinch and tickle him until he’s cackling and wriggling manically.

Seeing the satisfied smile on Louis’ face as he tortures his bandmate with well-timed jabs and gentler fingers, Harry pulls out the only thing he knows will make Louis stop. With a second available to strike, he curls a hand around Louis’ scarf and yanks him forward. However, Louis puts his hands out onto the armrest of the sofa to save them apparently butting heads, halting inches from Harry’s mouth.

Harry simply stares at him, waiting to see if Louis has the bottle to kiss him right here, right now _properly_. They try and keep their ‘moments’ outside of the studios, all too aware of the danger of getting caught, but they’d got away with a ridiculous amount of touching and even fake-kissing _on camera_ , so Harry was throwing caution to the wind and hoping Louis wouldn’t be able to resist the opportunity to rebel.

It seems he is true to form or reading Harry’s mind because Louis shakes his head slightly, “Ah, fuck it.”

He kisses Harry firmly, trying to remain upright and not elbow him in the shoulder as he lets his mouth do all the work. Harry’s arm drops down from clutching Louis’ neck and holds his face, tilting his own head to change the angle. They catch their breath in the milliseconds they allow themselves, too absorbed to pause longer. Louis leans into the touch as Harry strokes one hand down his back, but, thinking he’s trying to pull away, Harry presses him in again.

The fact that Harry’s being incredibly demonstrative before Louis’ even thought of his next move makes him break the kiss.

“You planned it,” he says, sounding matter-of-fact instead of offended.

Harry blinks at him once, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The staring, the laughing, the fighting, the joining in, it was all a scam so you could throw shit at me and snog my face off!”

They lock gazes for a moment, none of them resolving to move, then Harry sighs heavily, “I’m sorry! But this morning, with the jeans, and the scarf,” he links both of their hands together, pushing against Louis as he pushes back, “and you’re just so - so - ”

“Amazing?”

“I mean, you’re - ”

“Delightful?”

“So _fit_ when you’re not being try hard,” he can feel the heat rise into his face and turns coy when he realises what he’s actually saying out loud, “I like it. I like _you_. Too much, probably.”

There’s a long silence then Louis grins mischievously, “Fit, eh?”

Harry shoves him in the stomach with a fist, “Shut up.”

“You think I’m fi-it!” he declares in a sing-song voice, “Well, I think you’re gorgeous so we’re even.”

To cover up his embarrassment at such confessions, Harry curls a hand into Louis’ t-shirt and tugs him down. This time their mouths are ready immediately and he shifts under the comfortable weight of Louis settling on top of him, their bodies aligned from shoulder to waist. Louis nudges Harry’s right leg with his knee, pushing it wider until Harry’s almost got a foot on the messy floor. Having none of it, Harry tries to get back to his previous position and when he can’t, he hooks his leg around Louis’ waist and prods him in the lower back with his heel. If Louis could just move up slightly, the friction would be...

It must be too distracting because Louis’ goes incredibly still, their lips holding the barest of touches.

“Um. Well. This is new.” he says, looking a little unsure for what must be the first time since Harry’s known him.

“I know.” Harry raises his chin, defiant.

“Harry - ”

Harry sighs, cutting Louis off and pushing at his chest so he can untangle himself and sit up. “I know what you’re gonna say so don’t bother.”

Louis sits on his heels and folds his arms. “Remember that time we nearly got caught? I’m not keen on it happening again. I mean, I know I’m no angel but Jesus, Harry this is our career we’re talking about, yeah?”

He pulls his legs from under him as Harry scrubs both hands through his hair, “I get it, I just - ” he glances over as Louis slides next to him, “what we’re doing isn’t enough anymore.”

“That’ll be your downstairs brain talking,” Louis quips with a half-laugh.

Harry ignores him. “I’m ready y’know.”

Louis’ gaze moves from left to right as he thinks. Eventually, he frowns in confusion. Harry wills him to understand just through the power of a look. Unfortunately, he’s not a superhero.

“ _Y’know_...”

Louis’ eyes widen dramatically and he draws his knees up to his chest as he flails away from Harry, “Seriously?! You’re not saying - I mean, are you really - ”

With his loss of coherency, Louis jumps up and holds his arms out, as if warding Harry off...which he kind of is. “No, no, no, I can’t - we can’t - have you _seen_ me?!”

Harry frowns, “What? Louis, stop - ”

Louis walks slowly backwards. Harry looks between him and the door, realising he’s looking for a way out, literally and out of this conversation.

Meanwhile, Louis’ still babbling. “Believe me, I see the way people look at me sometimes and I like you, Harry, I really do but I go even crazier when we’re together, so that’s really, _really_ not a good - ” he sucks in a breath then starts another tirade, “You can’t trust me with something like that. You barely know me and I don’t want to be the one to - ”

“Louis! Shut your big mouth for once and just listen!” Harry yells over him, curled fists trembling by his sides.

Louis lowers his arms and sinks against the doorway. Well, at least he’s not running away.

Still, Harry swallows around the anxiety that’s crawling over him now that Louis’ eyes are fixed on him and he has to explain himself. “It’s not enough because I want _more_. I can’t help it, I want to have sex with you and I was tryin’ to make you do it but it’s not working so now, god help me, I’m _asking_.”

Louis blows his fringe out of his eyes and lets the rest of the breath out slowly, “Even if I said yes, we’re rarely alone. We’re so busy and we’ll always probably be too tired and I really don’t want to get on Uncle Simon’s bad side. I’m a joker, not an idiot.”

Harry smirks, challenging him but Louis’ too surprised to pick up on it. He closes the distances between them, fingers at his chest keeping Louis against the door.

“That’s why I want you, because you still say shit like ‘Uncle Simon’ and you _are_ special but you’re brilliant too and I wanna know what it’s like.”

“Huh?”

Harry looks down at Louis’ hand and runs the tip of his finger over the back of it, moving steadily up his arm, “I know what it’s like to kiss you; I need to know everything else. You’ve been driving me nuts.”

“Since when?”

Harry raises an eyebrow. The _duh!_ is unspoken. “The end of Bootcamp when you leapt at me like a bloody monkey!”

Louis laughs, remembering, “I didn’t think you’d be able to handle me,”

“Well I did,” Harry grins, “In more ways than one.”

Louis draws him in by the shoulder for a hug, turning his face into Harry’s neck to breathe him in. Maybe one day he’ll get a chance to treat him like he should, whether it’s sentimental or not. They want each other, that much is clear, but maybe today isn’t the right time.

Or maybe it is.

Louis’ gaze happens to flick across the room as he holds Harry to him and he spots a set of car keys on the dressing table, knowing for a fact that they belong to the boys’ minder.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea,”

Harry puts a hand to Louis’ waist and pulls from their embrace to look at him, “Does it involve putting salt in tea again or borrowing Liam’s Superman t-shirt or chucking chocolate coins at me?”

“Wow, I’m a genius already,” Louis chuckles before shaking his head, “Nope, none of those. See those car keys over there?” Harry looks at where Louis is pointing and nods, “we’re gonna take them and I’m driving us back to the house.”

Louis’ still unpredictable if Harry’s shocked expression is anything to go by, “Louis, that’s - ”

“Stealing, I know but you’re right and I want you too and if this is the only way then bollocks to everything. I’m gonna take you back to the house and ravish you until the cows come home!”

Harry wrinkles his nose like he’s realising again how odd Louis can truly be. 

He turns around as Louis snatches the keys off the table, “Besides,” he continues with a smile, “I can definitely blame _you_ for this one.”

\--

In a scene that wouldn’t be out of place in a spy film, Louis and Harry tiptoe through numerous corridors to get out of the studio and into the car park. They feel a little guilty for not even telling Liam, Zayn or Niall where they’re going but they silently agree that they can’t risk it. They want privacy, not anyone to persuade them otherwise.

They find the minder’s own car – a red Fiat - pretty easily because they’ve seen her get out of it before. Louis’ unlocking it and pulling open the driver’s door when Harry looks at him from across the roof.

“You can drive this thing, right?”

“It’s called a _car_ , Harry and yes, I can,” he smiles, “don’t worry I’ve got a license, although it’s in my wallet back in there and whose fault is that, hm?”

“Just get in the _car_ and drive, monkey boy.”

Harry has to endure Louis loudly humming Rihanna’s _Shut Up And Drive_ for ten whole minutes.

\--

Acting another scene from their homemade spy epic, they make sure that the paparazzi aren’t lurking about when they arrive at the house. With the coast clear, Louis parks and turns off the engine. Harry’s staring at him.

“What?”

He shrugs, looking down at his hands, “Just...downstairs brain talking, imagining shit. I want to see you drive again when all this is over.”

By _this_ he means the competition, but Louis grins. “Well, I’ve gotta take the car back, haven’t I? Or One Direction will only have four members and ain’t that a terrifying thought?!”

Harry laughs but secretly he thinks, _yeah, it really is_.

They race into the house, breathless, as the door shuts and the rest of the world gets left behind. They lean there for a moment, sneaking glances at each other and breaking into giggles.

“So...” Louis begins, dragging the word out as he pulls his beanie down over his ears again.

He debates grabbing Harry’s hand, which is just _there_ , next to him, but loses his nerve when Harry’s eyes catch his. Standing in the hallway, he looks almost vulnerable and Louis tries to squash down his worry that this’ll be one of Harry’s regrets.

“Come on,” he says instead, bounding ahead of Harry up the staircase.

Harry meets him by a room that isn’t theirs; nearly bumping into the back of Louis he’s so surprised to see that he’s stopped. Louis’ stroking his chin, thoughtful.

“Please tell me what you’re thinking so I can prepare,” Harry demands, giving him a playful shove.

“Hm, what? Oh, nothing...just wondering if we should try out another room first,” he starts walking, opening and closing doors along the way, “What about Mary? Nah, too much like a mum and she’ll probably _know_ by looking at us on TV or something. Belle Amie’s old room?” Louis laughs, “If only we could see their faces! Classic!”

Harry glares at him silently. Louis tries another door, barely stepping in before he decides against it.

“Ooh!” he adds gleefully, “What about Katie’s? I know Cher’s still in there but that’s all the more reason to be honest and if you think about it, it’s like the ultimate revenge for Aiden!” he pretends to hold a phone to his ear, “Hello, Katie? Louis here. Harry and I just had sex in your old bed! Bye!”

Harry raises his eyebrow, clearly communicating that however friendly they are with Aiden, Louis is _not_ allowed to breath a word of this to him or at least until Harry says so.

Still, he feels the need to warn Louis anyway, to be doubly sure, “You’re not telling Aiden about this, I don’t care how matey you are. If you tell Aiden then he’ll tell Matt and Matt will tell Dannii and then Dannii will tell Louis and Louis will tell Simon just because he can and then we are _so dead_ and One Direction will be _three_ members, not five!”

When Harry blinks Louis is holding him by the shoulders, “Whoa! Slow down there, drama queen. I was just messing around. I didn’t want to come over all serious on you so I thought I’d make a - didn’t work, did it? Forget this. Let’s just go to our room.”

Harry follows Louis as they make it to their room. It looks and smells the same as it did this morning, but Harry’s nerves curl around him nonetheless. It feels like the stage fright he used to have, only ten times worse. He stands in the middle of the room and their array of _stuff_ whilst Louis quietly shuts the door and draws the curtains in case of long range lenses or curiously inventive fans fancy shimmying up the drainpipe. 

At last, in the silence, Louis uncurls Harry’s clenched fists and nods to the single bed opposite their bunks, leading Harry there when he agrees, not trusting himself to use words. 

Sitting side by side, Louis leans in and kisses him chastely on the mouth. He sees Harry’s eyelashes flutter as he reluctantly closes his eyes, so Louis moves in for another, something longer and deeper. He takes it nice and slow, torn between amusement as Harry stays still and the growing need to be touched. When Louis kisses him with tongue, Harry’s hands come to wrap around his back and he seems to relax a bit more. Feeling encouraged, Louis slides his palm underneath Harry’s purple t-shirt and rests his fingers against Harry’s stomach. Harry suddenly leads with his kiss, plucking Louis’ beanie from his head and dropping it on the floor. 

Next, Harry blindly takes Louis’ scarf from him with hands that soon return to Louis’ body, passing over his spine and up the hem of his v-neck to settle near his ribcage. Harry squeezes his side, feels the bones beneath his fingers, and whimpers like he’s desperate for whatever else Louis is willing to give. 

That’s why it’s confusing when Harry tears his mouth away from him and breathes like he’s come from a long spell underwater. 

He grips the edge of the bed and shuts his eyes tightly. “I don’t think I can do this,”

Louis’ mouth drops in shock, “You’re joking, right?”

Harry looks at Louis, pupils blown wide and kiss-bruised lips. His face is warm to the touch and he rubs his clammy palms over his thighs. Louis understands why Harry wants this now, if that’s how they can make each other look.

He stutters out a laugh, “I mean, I don’t think I’m gonna, y’know, _last_ , if you keep letting me do what I want.”

Louis’ eyes light up when he realises he’s not being outright rejected, “Oh this is going to be so much fun.” 

He takes a breath when he sees Harry chewing at his lip, unsure how to get back to what was happening before.

“S’okay, by the way,” Louis adds, rubbing Harry’s shoulder, “We’ll get there eventually. We mastered the ol’ tug and stroke and alright, my mouth on your cock didn’t last two minutes but how hard can it be? Ha! Hard! Get it?”

“Thanks for demystifying the whole experience for me,” Harry tells him sarcastically, staring at Louis’ fingers on his shoulder.

“Ooh! Did you learn that one from brainy Zayny?!”

Harry gives a swift kick to the side of Louis’ foot. “Twat.”

“Sorry, this is supposed to make you want to sleep with me, isn’t it?” Louis waggles his eyebrows as he toes off his white Toms, “You distracted me from getting you hot, Harry Styles!”

Like they always banter, Harry wants to exclaim _“getting?!”_ just to be cheeky but his mouth is soon occupied by Louis’ instead and that’s a pretty good alternative to cheap talk.

Louis clutches at the nape of Harry’s neck, twirling strands of Harry’s curls around his fingertips as he tries to pull the younger boy over him so that they can settle down on the bed. Louis inhales sharply as Harry follows straight into his lap. To miss their heads clunking off the wall behind them, Louis shifts them subtly around so that when they do decide to take this horizontal, there will be no nasty surprise waiting to kill the mood.

With barely a gap between them, Louis can feel how hard Harry is and the force of want hits him like a physical blow to the chest. He moves to kiss along Harry’s jaw, a softer line than his own, so he can speak.

“Can I?” he asks, lifting the hem of the purple t-shirt.

Harry seems lost for a moment, his eyes closed as he lets Louis’ kisses send delicious shivers down his spine.

“I walk around naked.” he mumbles, like it doesn’t make any sense, like he’s sleep-talking, but Louis understands.

Never one to do something by half measures or miss an opportunity to act the fool, Louis tips Harry backwards slightly. In the space, he noses at the edge of Harry’s clothes, breaths dangerously passing across Harry’s crotch. He manages a few inches before Harry huffs in amusement and raises his arms to remove his t-shirt. He’s not expecting Louis’ lips to stay where they are, brushing his skin as it’s revealed. Louis holds him with hands wrapped around his sides, pressing open mouthed kisses up over his ribs and hearing Harry breathe quicker.

“Need them _off_!” he gasps, struggling to get his words out as he pushes his hips insistently against Louis.

Staring at him, Louis shoves Harry down onto his back, immediately covering him with his front. Harry’s legs rise to Louis’ waist and he’s too busying arching into Louis’ touch to help him remove the belt from around his trousers but Louis tugs it out from between them, determined. Louis bites the top of Harry’s ear, a small sarcastic _thanks for helping_ , and sucks hard on his throat when Harry suddenly comes.

Motionless, they stay locked around each other until Louis raises his head to look at Harry. Green eyes are wide in shock. Louis’ face splits into a grin.

“Wow, I’m good.”

It’s unclear whether Harry tries to bury his head in Louis’ chest from embarrassment or if he actually wants to head-butt him for being so cocky.

“Sorry,” he says quietly anyway, because it is his fault that they’ve stopped.

“Ah don’t apologise.” Louis smiles, glancing at their bodies sandwiched together, “I’m on top of a half naked heartthrob. I’m pretty happy, thank you very much.”

Nonetheless, he reaches down between them and adjusts himself, biting his lip to keep from moaning in relief. Maybe if he’s subtle, Harry won’t know how close he was to following him.

But Harry frowns deeply, crossing into a pout, as he yanks Louis’ wrist away, “You cheated!”

Louis vigorously shakes his head, “Did not. I just know certain stuff that helps, that’s all. How about we break for five minutes and you take off your clothes?”

“Ugh, fine,” he says, slightly grumpy with himself as Louis gets to walk around still hard and Harry should really go some way to cleaning himself up.

Looking around for something to do just that as he shimmies out of his trousers and underwear, Harry calls Louis back from halfway to the boys’ bathroom.

“Hey, chuck me your t-shirt?” he half-asks, nodding to the v-neck he hasn’t been able to get Louis out of yet.

“Why?”

“Because the quicker I see you, the quicker we can get back to the good stuff.”

Stroking his ego does the trick and he pelts Harry in the face with the garment. It smells of sweat and happiness and it’s a shame to ruin it but needs must.

Louis stops dead in the bedroom doorway when he sees what Harry really wanted his t-shirt for. It’s lying on the carpet in a slightly sticky, crumpled mess now and Harry stretches languidly and puts his hands behind his head.

“If you weren’t naked...” he trails off, not needing to finish his sentence as he shakes his head in disbelief that he fancies this boy, cheeky tactics and all.

“Well I am,” Harry replies, pleased with himself, “and you’re not. Why aren’t you naked yet and what’s that?”

He’s looking at what Louis’ just returned with from the bathroom. Louis brandishes one item and shakes the other with a big grin, “What’s it look like, idiot.”

“We are not gonna need a whole box of condoms,” Harry rolls his eyes, “Jesus, Louis. One will do.”

Louis throws his arms out, “We could be amazing together!”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to be walking around like fucking John Wayne tomorrow.” the other item grabs his attention, “Has that been the bathroom the whole time?”

“Yep,” he flips the cap up, “S’been opened too.” He starts to tut, “Someone’s been wanking in the shower again.”

“You!”

Louis shrugs, “Alright, so what? Not just me though. There’s at least half a tube gone. Do you think the _sexual tension_ in this group has been getting too much for some people?”

Harry snorts, “Probably. Come on, you’ve had your five minutes rest, old man. Chop, chop”

“You’re gonna pay for that!” Louis yells, taking a running jump to luckily land beside Harry on the bed. “Actually,” Louis adds at a normal volume as he props himself up by his elbow, “I’ll make a bet with you,”

He puts the box on Harry’s chest and the tube of lubricant over his bellybutton and Harry lies back and let’s him do it.

“What kind of bet?”

“Whoever can get a condom out of its wrapper and ready in the fastest time, wins. If you win, you get what you want,”

“And if, in the unlikely event, you win?”

If it was possible for Louis’ grin to widen anymore it would’ve, “I get to blow you before we do anything else.”

“What?!” Harry exclaims, covering his face with his hands before looking at Louis again, “No. That’s not fair. I can’t come twice before you! That’s exploitation!”

Louis winks. “Wanna bet?”

“Fine,” Harry mutters begrudgingly, placing the lube at a safe distance and tearing into the box.

Louis sits up and crosses his legs. For a millisecond, Harry’s glad that Louis still hasn’t taken his trousers off yet. That would definitely be too distracting, having Louis almost where he wants him but losing the bet. Harry decides to stay as he is and relax, calming himself down to really show Louis who’s boss.

“Ready,” Louis says slowly, “set...go!”

Harry rips the wrapper with unsteady fingers, cursing when the foil slips from his grasp. He hears more than sees Louis tear through the wrapper with his teeth, spitting out the corner and holding the condom and the opened wrapper high in the air.

“Ha!” he crows loudly, “I won!”

Harry pinches his nipple just to make him stop looking so smug.

“And now for your losing forfeit,” Louis picks up the loose condoms and the box and pushes them off the duvet and onto the floor so that they’re out of the way. 

Harry watches him as he leans over and desperately wants nothing more than to kiss Louis and make him forget about making this fun or relaxed or not a big deal. He knows what he wants, has asked for it, but got sidetracked by a challenge and, boys’ rules, can’t back out. He must take the consequences as Louis intended. _One day_ , he thinks ambitiously, _one day I’ll get him back for this_.

Louis slides down until his face is level with Harry’s crotch. Nothing is left to the imagination with him already being naked, but Harry still thinks that’s unfair. Louis’ pulling Harry’s knees apart when he tries to nudge him in the head.

“Wait!”

“You’ve got two seconds.”

“I wanna see you.”

Harry puts on his best mix of pleading and plain seductive that he can manage. Either Louis takes pity on him or it works its full magic. Louis kneels up.

“I think that’s a reasonable enough request,” he nods, kicking his trousers off and pulling down his boxer-briefs.

Harry feels his body tie itself into giddy knots, popping up in his stomach and his throat, stopping him from swallowing as his mouth practically waters from such bone-deep want.

“I hate you.” he pouts, typical boy covering up his true feelings, but Louis’ naughty smile knows that he means _I bloody love you right now_.

That devil fixed in place, Louis rolls the duvet all the way off the end of the bed, settles onto his stomach again and wets his lips, readying. Harry can’t watch this anymore, so he screws his eyes shut and waits for the shot of pleasure to whack him round the head.

His hips arch up at the lightest touch of Louis’ tongue tracing his cock but he’s at his mercy now and he gasps at the pressure of being held down, his head thrashing from side to side as Louis finally takes him inside his mouth.

_Oh fuck_ , he screams silently until his world no longer makes sense.

Soon, he’s chanting it out loud and vocalising what he’s craved all along, every tendon and muscle clenched like he’s going to snap in half. Harry pulls Louis’ hair and Louis admonishes him irritably but the vibrations only make him worse.

“Louis, please!” he begs, swapping to grip the pillow below his head just in case his good behaviour will make him stop. “Please - please fuck me, I can’t - I - ”

But Louis is apparently suffering from selective loss of hearing. However, Harry does feel one of the hands on his hips move onto the bed, scrabbling around for something he can’t focus on for long. He hears a pop and then is swearing furiously some more as a cold, sticky fingertip tickles him intimately, testing him patiently. Despite the shock and the natural reaction to shy away, he exhales and relaxes, almost sobbing with raw need when Louis tries again.

“What the fuck?!” he pants, his head so far back he could probably see the headboard if his eyes were open.

Harry thinks Louis might respond, _say something_ , when his mouth slides up but he’s wrong. Louis’ tongue flutters against him softly, his fringe tickling Harry’s skin as it drops in front of his eyes. Harry can’t resist moving Louis’ hair back, running his hands through it, wanting to see his face. He gets wobbly for a moment as Louis grips him steady at the base of his cock and then sucks him down as far as he can go. It lasts seconds, neither of them used to it, but Harry shouts as Louis manages to wiggle his finger inside him to the first joint.

Harry knows he needs to act fast and uses his foot to push at Louis to warn him. He prods him again once he’s come up for air, harder than he intended but it gets him out of the way, rolling to the side nearest the wall. Harry takes hold of himself, slick and on the very edge, strokes once, twice, and comes over his stomach.

Louis glances up from his position next to Harry’s left thigh, a dazed look in his eyes and his chin still damp with saliva. Harry moans, quickly leaving his dick alone lest he try and wank at the sight Louis makes and he becomes horribly oversensitive. Louis drops his face to the sheets, his jaw aching, his lips tingling.

“I just need to, uh...” he pauses, coughing when his voice sounds so wrecked.

Harry’s eyes are huge, knowing _he’s_ the reason for why Louis sounds so hoarse. He may be imagining it in his post-orgasm haze, but he could’ve sworn that at the realisation his cock twitches with interest.

“C’mere,” he smiles, trying to tug Louis up towards him with a hand underneath his arm.

Louis manages to crawl and then lay half on top of Harry, his forehead touching Harry’s warm shoulder. Harry kisses his temple and then reaches down, enjoying the hitch in Louis’ breathing as he strokes him with long, assured movements, remembering a little bit of what he likes and a little bit of what Louis likes. Memories from the times they’ve done this part before come flooding in and Harry switches back to confident, stubbornly hoping to reward Louis with a well-earned orgasm of his own.

He groans lowly not long after and Harry refuses to let him go. Louis spills onto Harry’s stomach, too turned on to fight.

They lay quietly, chests heaving as they try to regain their sensibilities. Suddenly, Louis starts to giggle.

“Oh man,” he sighs, his words rougher than usual, “that was fucking amazing.”

Harry hums in approval, huffing out a laugh when Louis yanks his head down by a hand at his sweaty neck, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss.

“ _You_ ’re amazing,” he says sincerely, holding him by the jaw to press a smaller kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Harry grins, kissing his palm, “And you sound so hot right now I can’t take it.”

Louis laughs with a lazy yawn, “Flirt.”

With Louis on his side, Harry turns away and settles back into his body, letting himself be spooned. It’s the least he can do.

“Nap?”

“Mm,” Louis replies, “Would you mind? Just a time out. I might even get my voice back.”

“Shame.” Harry smiles, pushing against him to remind him what’s still to come.

\--

They last seven minutes before Harry starts to fidget deliberately in Louis’ arms.

“Harry,” he begins warily, “what’re you doing?”

“Getting you hard,”

“Why?”

“Because I want you inside me, like, yesterday.”

Louis openly laughs, his face appearing over Harry’s shoulder as he tries to see his expression, “Have you been watching porn again?”

Knowing he’s being watched, Harry grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners, “Might’ve.”

Louis pushes him by the shoulder to get him to lie flat. Harry’s still smiling as he moves on top of him, wrapping his arms around Louis’ neck to keep him there as they kiss. Louis strokes his hands down Harry’s torso, intending on grabbing his legs to bring them up to fit around him, when he stops and looks at where his hands are.

“You really need a shower,” he laughs, wrinkling his nose in fake disgust.

Harry flicks him in the ear, “Come with me?”

But Louis shakes his head and rolls off him, “I need to do something important.”

“Yeah, _me_.” he retorts, throwing him a meaningful look.

Insistent, Louis shoves Harry to a stand and smacks him across his behind, “Stop being dirty and get in that shower!”

As Harry walks to the bathroom, he glances at Louis from over his shoulder after every two footsteps and puts on an exaggerated pout. They’re laughing at his ridiculousness when the _Baywatch_ theme suddenly blasts out from somewhere near the bed.

“Do you have an obsession with The Hoff or something?!” Louis exclaims instead of being annoyed that Harry changed his ringtone. 

It happens so often between the five of them now that they barely bat an eyelid. What’s become hilarious about it is watching the reactions of the people around them. They still haven’t been able to top Niall messing with Liam’s to make it play “I Touch Myself”, ringing him when they were at the studio canteen and the maximum amount of onlookers would hear it. It still makes Louis smile remembering Liam not knowing how to react himself, blushing and then outrage and then collapsing into giggles anyway.

Louis eventually finds his mobile phone underneath a pile of their discarded clothes and looks to see who it is. He can’t help grinning when he answers, enjoying the thrill of feeling naughty.

“Vas happenin’ Liam, my man?”

“Where the fuck are you?” comes Liam’s slightly agitated voice in reply, ignoring his cheery hello.

Louis squashes his giggles, “At the house. Why? Are we rehearsing yet?”

“No,” Liam answers begrudgingly and then launches into more worried telling off, “Why are you at the house? Wait, _how_ are you at the house?”

“We, uh, took the bus,” he replies, thinking on his feet.

It should be weird talking to one of his best friends on the phone whilst he’s naked and sitting on sheets that smell like him and Harry combined, but Louis is blasé about such things and takes everything in his stride. It’s everyone else who has the problem with his eccentricities. 

“Harry’s there with you?”

Louis chuckles, the both of them knowing that’s probably the stupidest question ever, even if Liam isn’t totally clued up about their real relationship with each other.

“Is he okay?” Liam adds, sounding distant as he obviously relays everything Louis is telling him to Zayn and Niall.

“He’s fine, just felt ill, so I offered to ride back with him. I think he might have a temperature. He’s in the bathroom right now, puking his guts up so no, you can’t speak to him and yes, I am telling the truth. Scouts honour.”

Louis winces, wondering whether the double bluff was too much, but Liam buys it. Louis knows this because Liam simply says, “You weren’t even in the Scouts,” and leaves it at that. Well, he tells Louis that they have some time before people start to get suspicious and that he hopes Harry will feel better quickly because they need him.

“That we do, Mr Payne,” Louis nods sagely, “That we do.”

Once the call ends, Louis stretches out on the bed, crossing his ankles and pulling part of the sheet over him to stop him getting cold while he waits.

Harry eventually emerges from the bathroom in a cloud of steam and a towel needlessly wrapped around his hips. His hair is still dripping wet and Louis admires him for a moment before he realises that he is heading straight for him.

“Dry first!” he demands, shouting in gleeful protest as Harry kneels up on the bed and ferociously shakes his head, water spraying everywhere.

After he’s got the sheets and Louis satisfactorily soggy, he stops and blinks, feeling slightly dizzy. He falls into Louis’ arms, giggling as he presses quick kisses to his cheek, deliberately missing to sometimes loudly catch his ear. 

“Who called?” Harry asks, when they’ve caught their breath and is past the enthusiastic happiness of being reunited.

“Who’d you think?”

He raises his gaze from where he’s resting against Louis’ shoulder and grins, “Liam.”

“Congratulations, you win...” he looks around them uselessly, with nothing immediately to hand, “I’m sure I’ve got chewing gum in my pocket so you can win that.”

Harry shakes his head and throws a leg over Louis’ body, the softness of the towel caressing his damp skin and stretching to accommodate Harry’s movements. Any further and it won’t be able to, but he doesn’t seem bothered by that as he sits astride Louis’ lap and tugs the towel off. Louis bites his lip as Harry takes his sweet time getting comfortable, hands planted firmly on Louis’ chest.

“I wanked in the shower just in case it helps,” he informs him nonchalantly, as he rocks his hips slowly.

“Okay!” Louis declares hurriedly, practically picking him up and placing him back on the bed where he can be less mischievous, “Enough of that now.”

Harry sinks into the bed, staring up at Louis with something like adoration in his eyes. He runs a fingertip down Louis’ face, from his forehead to his lips, “I want you, Louis, and I really do mean it.”

Louis ducks his head, slightly bashful. Harry will never tell him but it’s nice to see him look a little doubtful for once. “I just want you to be sure. I mean, I don’t want this to be - what if I’m - I don’t want to be a disappointment to you, y’know? Well, as little a disappointment as first times go anyway. You’re sixteen; you’re not supposed to regret shit yet.”

“Let’s see, I’ve come from _you biting my ear_ and had the best blowjob ever, so somehow I don’t think you’re going to disappoint me. And,” he adds, smoothing his hands over Louis’ shoulders as their foreheads touch, “even if you were crap in bed, I still wouldn’t give a fuck because you’re my best mate and you always will be, whatever else happens.”

“That’s, um, a bold statement,” Louis starts to smile again, “You can’t it back.”

“Good.” Harry pokes his tongue out, “I don’t want to.”

When they kiss this time, sealing the deal so to speak, Louis’ posture changes and suddenly _it is on_. Harry breathes out in relief, giddy with happiness, as Louis returns to the bottom half of the bed and between Harry’s legs. They watch each other as he drops a gentle kiss to the side of Harry’s knee and tries to find the lube somewhere in the loosened sheets. Harry helps out and triumphantly finds it before Louis, holding it away from him when he reaches to grab it.

“Come up here and get it,” he challenges, his eyes following Louis as he takes the bait.

He clings to him for a few moments, breathing harshly when Louis simply presses his lips to Harry’s neck instead of wrenching himself from the hold. It seems like the tendon in his neck or the hollow of his throat is hardwired straight to his cock because it feels _so good_ , such intense sensation in short, raging bursts.

“Don’t take too long.” he warns him, slapping the lube into Louis’ waiting hand and arching away from him slightly to make his point.

He’s already pretty relaxed from his shower and loose limbed from his self love, but Louis is still careful, not afraid to smear the lube over his hand and get sticky fingerprints all over the bed and Harry’s skin. He sucks an impressive bruise into Harry’s hip when he tries to slip in the first of his fingers, hearing the bitten off whimpers loud and clear above his head. Louis thumbs a nipple experimentally with his free hand and Harry’s spine bends to meet him. His cock is not far from Louis’ face, it’d barely take anything at all to get him in his mouth again and he’s tempted, so very tempted to bring him to full hardness like that, but he knows Harry trusts him to come through for him and more than blowjobs or kisses, he wants to fulfil that promise.

That’s not to say he doesn’t crack a joke, mumbling to himself “I’ll see _you_ later” when he licks down past Harry’s cock to his thigh and starts distracting him there. Louis tries not to dwell on the heat and the unbelievable way in which Harry accepts him, tentative but willing. If he does, he’s sure he’s going to concentrate on how it looks, how it feels when he gently crooks his finger and Harry slowly starts to unfold around him.

“Louis,” he says, almost whines impatiently as he clutches Louis’ wrist still lingering near his chest in a death grip.

Louis turns and kisses his inner thigh softly, carefully scissoring a couple of fingers to shut him up, “Shh take it easy, Harry. You’re fine, you’re fine.”

There’s a mangled sound from low in Harry’s throat at the change in touch and pace. Without his two hands, Louis can feel Harry’s heartbeat skitter wildly underneath his fingertips. Three fingers snug and driving him crazy, Louis decides it’s now or never. Harry’s toes are curling down by Louis’ hips and his feet are turning in to rub along his sides. If he just shuffles upwards, they can physically come together.

Dragging himself higher, Louis moans at the friction of the mattress on his cock and blinks at Harry hazily, noticing he’s pink in the face with exertion and arousal. What he can see of his irises make his eyes so vividly green and his hair is perfectly curly, still damp from his shower and his body shining with sweat. It’s amazingly easy to slip against each other and Louis pushes his face into Harry’s neck, reassuring.

“You better be ready or _I’m_ not gonna last,” he jokes, blindly grasping at the sheets for the condom he successfully opened earlier.

“Do it,” Harry replies, ignoring Louis’ comment at somehow trying to make him feel better, “do it or I swear I’ll _kill_ you.”

He does look a little manic and lost to what he’s feeling but he’s beautiful, so Louis doesn’t mind the empty threat. He had planned on asking Harry to put the condom on him, the thought of Harry’s hands around him again too good an opportunity to miss, but he quickly does it himself instead, vigilantly applies more lube and reaches out.

They clutch at each other as Harry’s legs fall open and Louis enters him, a fist around his cock as a guide. He grabs a handful of hair at the top of Harry’s head and it feels so silky and free compared to the overwhelming pressure as he coaxes the body beneath him to take him. Louis hears a sharp intake of breath and then nothing for several seconds, almost as glad as Harry is when he’s finally inside him to the hilt and Harry starts breathing properly again. He raises his legs around to Louis’ waist, resting just on his hips, and fits his heels into the dip of his lower back.

Louis searches Harry’s mouth out before he begins moving, feeling high as a kite and pleased as Harry groans and trembles. He picks up the tempo fairly quickly, addicted to the wide eyed stare and speechlessness for as long as they can hold on.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Louis tells him, gripping Harry’s hair tighter and carelessly biting his lower lip before soothing the sting with a flick of his tongue.

Harry can’t find the words to express anything so he demonstrates through his body, pushing back on every thrust and clenching his toes to remind him to cheekily tense up whenever he feels like it. Meanwhile, Louis is determined to bruise him some more apparently, attacking his collarbone because it’s too risky to suck a lovebite into his neck, and fisting Harry’s cock too, in a rhythm that matches the snapping of their hips and more than capably trading tricks when Harry goes taut and pleasure crosses his face.

“Shit! Louis, _there_ \- oh god, don’t stop, don’t stop, I can’t - ”

“Then don’t!”

They breathe each other’s air until the shudders of Harry’s orgasm and the feel of his sweat and come smothering his skin are too difficult for Louis to withstand and he comes soon after, hips stuttering. Harry holds him through it even though he’s still trembling himself, kissing his eyelids and his cheekbones before nudging Louis’ mouth open with his tongue.

“Happy now?” Louis questions, voice muffled by the fact his face is directly lodged in the pillow below Harry’s head.

Harry wiggles joyfully and then regrets it, his rather numb legs treating him to a generous stab of pins and needles and everything beginning to ache from his hips down. Some of his body even _stings like a bitch_ with Louis definitely leaving his mark on him for tomorrow.

“Mm, I am,” he assures with a grin that turns into a grimace, “but now I ache all over, oh my god”

“Sorry about the, uh, biting,” Louis apologises sheepishly, “Didn’t think I was so... _possessive_ but then you - and it was so - ugh,” he groans sadly, “I couldn’t help myself.”

“Its fine,” Harry smiles, “sort of. Anyway, you should see your shoulder.”

They awkwardly untangle themselves and Louis quickly sorts out the condom situation so he can have a look at what Harry’s talking about. He should stand in front of a mirror to get a proper idea but stretching his neck to peer over his shoulder has to do for now.

“You’ve barely got any fingernails and you still managed to tear chunks out of me,” leaning back on his heels, Louis grins, “I’m sure this qualifies as manly.”

“We had manly sex!” Harry exclaims, delighted.

Louis holds both his palms up, “High...ten?”

They slap their hands together and then there’s laughter, like nothing’s changed and they’re still boys who play pranks on everyone and rarely talk about their feelings if they really don’t have to because they’re best mates and they understand each other.

Harry suddenly can’t think of a single person he’d have rather had his first time with and luckily Louis wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

**Author's Note:**

> What do you mean I'm procrastinating from actually writing more new fic? Pfft.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr for a chat if you like at [theprincessed](http://www.theprincessed.tumblr.com). :)


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